


And This is The End

by brumalbreeze



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brumalbreeze/pseuds/brumalbreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin should have known.</p><p>He wasn’t stupid, so he should have known. But his selfishness and self-centeredness was his downfall, and now it’s too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And This is The End

**Author's Note:**

> I've gotten really tired of RinTori fics where Nitori is physically and emotionally abused but does nothing about it, so I needed to write this. I've also written a meta-post on this topic, which you can find on my [Tumblr](http://brumalbreeze.tumblr.com/post/61179551386/rintori-meta-post)!
> 
> Also on my [Tumblr](http://brumalbreeze.tumblr.com/post/60642277767/and-this-is-the-end-rintori) and [FF.net](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9669893/1/And-This-is-The-End) accounts.

Rin should have known.

He wasn’t stupid, so he should have known. But his selfishness and self-centeredness was his downfall, and now it’s too late.

At first, it must have been hero worship that kept him around, hovering and expectant, always holding a towel, or his jacket, or a bottle of water for him. And he was constantly smiling too, his cheeks pushed up and eyes crinkled as he began to tell him things a normal person would have thought twice about freely saying.

“You looked so wonderful in the water today, Matsuoka-senpai! Especially your butterfly. The way you pull your arms out the water is so graceful, but I think your kick might be the best. You really don’t waste any energy when you enter that second kick, do you? As expected from Matsuoka-senpai!” he would prattle excitedly. It was as if he was the one who was the prodigy swimmer, not Rin.

It took a while to get used to how Nitori would always be around him, waiting to help him with something or just talk to him. The other team members of the club laughed at first. They didn’t make fun of them but joked good-humoredly, saying things like, “I wish I had a kouhai  as devoted to me as Nitori! Hey, Takeda, what do you think?”

Laughs would go around, and Nitori would merely smile lightly and tilt his head while Rin muttered something under his breath and rolled one shoulder in irritation.

But then it became pure habit. He’d jump out of the pool and automatically reach out for the towel he knew would be waiting for him. Sometimes he’d listen to what Nitori would say—because even though he wasn’t as good as Rin when it came to swimming, he did have a keen eye for forms and techniques—and other times he would ignore him and grunt.

The kid tried his best to follow him everywhere. On morning runs, on trips to the convenience store, to the pool. Rin didn’t doubt that, if he could have sat in his class, Nitori would be behind him during then too. But in the times that he couldn’t be by his side, he would be waiting.

Not like some clingy boyfriend who lingered outside his classroom every day, but somewhere close where they could have easily ran into each other or not. Maybe by the vending machine next to the dining hall’s entrance or next to Rin’s usual locker in the changing room, adjusting his goggles which didn’t need fixing.

Back in their room, he’d be waiting with a smile and a “Welcome back, Senpai! You’ve worked hard today!” Most of the time, he would be at his desk doing homework, but several times, he was on his bunk with books scattered around him. In those moments, he would scuttle over to the edge of the railing and lean over, his head barely peeking over the bars and his lips curved up gently.

Rin always thought the way Nitori clung onto the railings with his hands and tucked his chin against the cold metal made him look like an excited puppy. His eyes certainly held the shine of pure, unadulterated joy every time Rin came back.

The noncommittal noise he responded with never seemed to put Nitori off though. Rather, every time he said something even vaguely encouraging to the boy, the boy’s face lit up like Rin just told him he dropped his best time by three seconds.

Nitori talked too much.

Either to make up for Rin’s unsociable silence or perhaps to hear his own voice (Rin later realized it was to get his attention), he was talking nonstop. About swim, about classes, about the Iwatobi Swim Club—about the Iwatobi Swim Club up until the point Rin glared at him and snarled. That was probably the first time Rin saw the splintered sliver of hurt and surprise on Nitori’s face that was quickly covered up with a hasty apology.

Then it was pity. Maybe.

When Rin finally couldn’t hold in all the pain because it hurt so much and Nitori was the only one around, he had told him what was wrong. But not about everything. He would never tell Nitori everything, but it had been enough to make the first-year’s face grow solemn.

There, in the empty dark illuminated solely by the glow of the vending machine, Nitori’s clear eyes had clouded and his usually smiling mouth pursed together in restraint. This was the same Nitori who had clung onto him with actual tears in his eyes, begging him not to die minutes prior.

Rin was annoyed by how overdramatic Nitori acted, shoving him off and wondering how the hell someone could be as stupid as to misinterpret his sentence like that. And then wondering how stupid someone had to be to actually cry at the thought of him dying.

Nitori didn’t let his stubborn little grip off the hem of his pants until Rin assured him twice that he was an idiot and told him he wanted to get something from the vending machine downstairs. Only then did the first-year release the bit of fabric he had pinched between his thumb and forefinger, as if that was enough to keep his senpai grounded and with him.

He was always watching after that, to make sure he was still there in one piece. He watched as Rin practiced sets, pushing his body too hard for the day right before a competition, when he should have rested instead. It looked like he wanted to scold him, but Nitori never did, only pressed his lips together and looked at the floor with loosely fisted hands at his side.

The competition happened, but everything was just an angry blur, a mix of ramped-up excitement and joy and then devastating anger. The emotions he experienced that day were too much in too little time. He vaguely remembered being congratulated by Nitori after he won the 100-meter freestyle. He looked so excited and proud of Rin, he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

He wasn’t there when Rin ran into the others from Iwatobi though. Would things have been better or worse if he had been?

And was he next to him when he watched in shock as the Iwatobi Swim Team swam the 200-meter relay? He couldn’t recall. Maybe he had left Nitori in the locker rooms in his blind rush. Maybe he eventually caught up with him. And perhaps he was there when he was watching the four of them celebrate at the starting blocks, all cheers and whoops and grins.

(And  _he_  should have been there with them. Not that weird guy who kept calling Haru “Haruka-senpai” and practically drowned through his fifty. He should have been there. Why wasn’t he? Why wasn’t he—)

Who led him off the pool area afterwards?

There was a hand on his arm pulling him away, he remembered. The touch was warm, but it was too hot for physical contact, and he had shaken it off in fury. Someone’s voice had called out to him, “Senpai—let’s go. Senpai—” but he could hear nothing but the voices of his former teammates still yelling from the starting blocks.

He didn’t want to go to that festival on that night either, but the captain dragged everyone along and Nitori was insistent about it too. He saw Nitori’s happy expression falter for a second while he tugged on his arm, but maybe it was his imagination.

The train was uncomfortably crowded with people heading to the festival. People were dressed up in yukata, and their geta clacked noisily on the platforms and in the train.

Nitori found himself crammed up against Rin’s chest—“Sorry, Senpai, I can’t really move—Oops! I’m sorry!”—and a couple who stood directly behind him. It was stuffy and gross inside the train, but Rin reminded himself that it was only four stops, so he would endure it. Nitori’s face was flushed from the heat of the train as he looked up at Rin with a smile. Their arms were awkwardly twisted up and to the side as they clung onto the overhead handles for support.

He talked to him excitedly, his elbow occasionally touching Rin’s arm when the train leaned one way or the other too far, and the riders stumbled on their feet. Nitori’s eyes were bright as he chattered on, his words slipping between his lips like they would never run out. Once or twice, the train lurched so much that Nitori had to grab onto him, but he would apologize quickly, give a short laugh, and let go right away.

Rin was so distracted and upset the entire time, he didn’t even reply once.

He didn’t know what Nitori was trying to do, tagging along with him and talking to him the entire night, when it was clear that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. But no matter where he went, the boy was right there.

Nitori was the one who bought everything for him. Food and drinks kept getting pressed into his hands, and he barely acknowledged them with a quiet, “Thanks,” every time. Even that made the first-year beam, eyes closing momentarily as his teeth flashed.

But as the night dragged on, his feelings of uneasiness increased, especially when he felt like someone was watching them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary though, so he ignored it and went on his way. Nitori clearly noticed how distracted he was, but he didn’t ask about it.

Just like he never did.

He talked like there was no tomorrow, but he never actually pestered Rin to tell him things. Nitori was the type of person who would patiently wait for someone to tell their stories when they were ready, and, in a way, Rin appreciated that.

He shouldn’t have expected Nitori to keep following him forever like that though, like he did for almost the entirety of that night. In the same way the silver-haired boy eventually gave up and stopped trailing behind him after he told him to go back, he should have understood that his kouhai, who looked at him with eyes like he was the most wonderful human being in the world, would soon realize he was worth more than this.

Nitori wasn’t a fool.

He understood things without being told them outright. He knew that Rin was constantly thinking about Haruka and his other childhood friends. He also knew that Rin would never open up to him completely, no matter how much he wished for it. And it was with great pain that he accepted the fact that Rin would never smile at him like he had at his former teammates so many years ago, when he had first seen him.

For Rin, Haruka was always the most important person in his life and Nitori would never be able to be in that spot—not even for a second.

And no matter how hard Nitori tried, it just wouldn’t change.

So when Rin kept brushing him off and only replying to him when he felt like it once in a while, Nitori’s smiles began to fade.

Rin didn’t notice at first, but then he realized that he was no longer being greeted all the time when he went into the room and Nitori was there. In fact, it became more often that he would return to an empty and quiet room.

He would pull himself out of the pool and looked up to see no one there waiting for him. Nitori sat with his other classmates during lunchtime and laughed with them instead of saving a spot for him in the cafeteria. He stopped asking Rin for help on his homework. Only the crunching of his shoes against the gravel accompanied him on convenience store runs. He kept ending up with an extra beverage at the vending machines.

Mornings passed without a cheery, “Good morning,” and the two of them went to sleep without saying anything to each other. Between the passing moments when they happened to be in the same room, they would talk very briefly. Nitori started taking his homework to the library and other dorm rooms more often. His kouhai, who had always been talking to him, suddenly became mute.

When Rin grew irritated with the sudden change in Nitori’s behavior and confronted him about it, the first-year merely smiled—halfway between here-and-there, it was so lukewarm and fake—and said it was nothing. He was just busier lately, and sorry, Matsuoka-senpai, but his friends invited him out for dinner tonight so he has to go now.

And when the door of their room closed on him and Nitori was gone, Rin understood. And he should have known.

Maybe he should have treated the younger boy better. He should have thanked him more and given him more advice. He shouldn’t have snapped so much and pushed him away—physically and emotionally—when all Nitori wanted to do was make sure he was okay.

He should have noticed how much Nitori watched him when he wasn’t looking, and how much he talked  _to_ him and  _about_ him. And how happy he seemed while doing so. Rin should have seen the way Nitori acted when he was waiting for him—how he stared at the floor nervously and kept tugging at the hem of his shirt. And then he’d look up and beam at him.

And he should have appreciated the stupid little sticky-notes that somehow ended up all over his textbooks and folders when he wasn’t looking.

“Good luck on your test today, Senpai!”

“I bought too much pudding from the convenience store today, Senpai. You can have some if you’d like. It’s in the communal fridge!”

“I think it might rain today, so please be careful!”

Rin should have known, because Nitori deserved more.

It had always been unfair for the first-year, who gave so much of himself to Rin but received so little in return. It was never enough, and he wasn’t naïve and hopeful enough to think that Rin would “eventually” notice him, when his heart and mind was already so occupied with Haruka.

He knew when to give up and move on, because he had his own life and Rin wasn’t worth sacrificing everything for.

It wasn’t hero worship or pity that kept Nitori around him all the time.

It was love.

But now Nitori was gone and Rin was in the room alone and it was too late—

And it was too late.

And it was too late.

Again.

 


End file.
